


bad family

by highrollers



Category: Sadie Sparks (Cartoon)
Genre: is evil cousin evil??, just after the bane of my evil cousin episode [ep 25], short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28427832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highrollers/pseuds/highrollers
Summary: Zaine writes the email to his father [Post S1 E25: The Bane of Blaine]





	bad family

_Dear Father-_

Zaine rubbed his head, looking at the near blank email. He knew he should write something, try to explain his actions to him and his motives for doing what he did (at the very least before word got out about his attempted coup). He _knew_ he should, and yet his mind drew a steady blank as he stared at those two words.

_Dear Father._

He briefly wondered what happened to his cousin; what did he make of him now? Did he distrust him now, did he hate him now? He got his phone out and looked at the last message he has sent him.

 **_[kid #1]_ ** _yea i got the box hope u leave me alone now :/_

 **_[you]_ ** _Thanks, cuz. You won’t regret it ;)_

Maybe he should be feeling a little sorry for what he did, manipulating his younger cousin into giving up his part of the cursed family heirloom to rule both ordinary and magical worlds. Maybe, if he was a better person, he would go and apologize to his cousin and his friends, beg for mercy from the Council and take a solemn vow never to dapple in dark magic again.

Thing is, he didn’t know where he stood anymore. If he should do that, or even be good at all in the first place. < _Good or bad… >_

He still remembered the rush of power flooding his body, the euphoria sharping his magical senses and the pure unaltered _strength_ he had over them, over the whole situation. Dully, he realized that if he had made sure his cousin didn’t have any friends or did a better job at isolating him, he would’ve won.

Did he really want that? Of course he did, he didn’t go through all that researching and hunting and dealing with so many family members with a forced smile and slick words all just to _fail_. But how did he fail so spectacularly then? With two humans (<magicless scum>), two mentors (<useless and haughty, the lot of them>) and a rival-enemy of a girlfriend (<who was interesting to see in action>) was something he didn’t expect to see the full wrath of, he failed.

Of course, if he had enough control he would’ve gotten enough power from the stone to get rid of them all. He muses about this, his fingers typing up a message he would never send.

 **_[you]_ ** _Sorry about the whole thing, really didn’t mean to hurt you and your girlfriend like that. And your other friends but that’s something else. I just wanted to—_

He wanted to what? Show his father that he was worth something? Show the world he was a great, no, the best wizard that ever graced the earth? What kind of wizard got defeated by normals? By an ambush no less, one that was so badly planned it was a wonder it still worked. He still remembered the words he whispered to his cousins rival, with the type of (in)sincerity that reeked of sweetness. _“A wizard should always watch their back”_ wasn’t it? Or something close enough.

_Dear Father, I know you might’ve heard about what I have done recently; or if you haven’t, let me enlighten you—_

Zaine sighed. The hotel he decided to go bunk in was in a horrendous state of disrepair, but he wouldn’t dare use magic to fix it up lest someone tracked him. He had seen others persecuted for less than what he did, and even though he was from a prestigious family his dark history has already painted a large enough target on his back.

What did he tell his cousin for his foolish tendencies to trust family?

_“You need to brush up on your family history.”_

Oh, yeah, _that_. He was actually surprised that he was coddled to the point he trusted him blindly, enough to cut ties with his friends and mentor. How could he be so trusting, so blind, to all their bad blood…

His face…

He looked so surprised at the plot twist; so betrayed, so broken, so raw afterwards. Zaine barely remembered him when he looked like that, so flat, so void. He was always puff and bravado, fancying himself as someone who had the world at his feet and while that might be argued as another one of their family’s trait, he had softer edges than the rest of them.

Soft enough to love the competition, he reckoned. For all the times he called him out on the love, not once did he so much as snap at him for it.

Young love was something to behold, especially when it made the job easier to do.

(<Pathetic> he wanted to cry _so much_ , but he doubted he had a heart in the first place, instead placing a hand on his chest where he still felt a silver of the Lodar stone tucked in one of the inner pockets of his jacket.)

_—Yes, I have gotten a powerful object from him, but alas he had successfully gotten it off me and has putted it in a place I doubt I would be able to access._

But who needed explanations? Not his younger, gullible cousin and certainly not his father—he doubted even the Council wanted to hear what he had to say in his defense. First thing about being a wizard, or just being human: they only care about a show. Nothing else.

A bang went off at that moment and his room was filled with smoke, pierced only with vivid green eyes. Curious; the magic that sparked his hands alight was both the blue of normal magic and the red of dark.

See, it’s all about the show.

“We need to have a talk,” he growled, voice hoarse. Not a bit of swagger in him now, oh no. He’s thoroughly broken now, the enchantment of a perfect family in pieces and still being coughed out bit by bit.

He quickly closed his phone, temporarily forgetting about the burning words, and placed his laptop down on the bed. If they wanted a show, then by all means he would oblige.

Who was he to deny his very own stage?

_Dear (Grand)Father, hope you’re rolling around in your grave (when you die) because I’m not stopping until I get what I want. Even if I have to dig it out of your dead body._

“By all means, cousin,” Some part of him twisted at the sight of his wince at those words, of his hand aimed straight towards his chest. Good. Maybe he did have a little good in himself after all. “Lead the way.”

Oh it was _fun_ to be good. Even if it gets a bit messy.

But bad? That’s where the _real_ stuff are.


End file.
